Inheritance
by The Mad Fangirl
Summary: Post-apocalyptic family bonding. Spoilers for S3 finale Tipping Point.


TITLE: Inheritance

AUTHOR: The Mad Fangirl

RATING: PG

ARCHIVE: Just ask - I'll almost always say yes.

WARNINGS: Spoilers for S3 Finale Tipping Point Part 1

PAIRINGS: None

REVIEWS: make me squee like the Fangirl I am

SUMMARY: Father-son bonding, post-apocalyptic prophet style.

* * *

"It's time," J.J. says.

"Already?" Just the slightest of sighs.

"Your visions. They end-"

"Soon. Yeah. We're getting to about the farthest I've ever seen. Which doesn't mean I'm not going to see something ten years ahead tomorrow, but-"

"You haven't yet." And his voice trembles because it's his father, and that makes you swallow hard. "Plus..." J.J. ticks them off on his fingers. You can feel that. Your son plus your power lets you use his senses as if they're your own. "We decided. I'm twenty-one today. They need someone who can do it. Anyone who's spent any time around you could spot a fake a mile away. And..." Quirk of a smile that could be yours or Walt's... "We already know you're going to, right?"

"How can you even think about doing this? My God, how-"

Why is he even here? It's none of his business. "Shut up, Wey."

J.J. is nicer than you are, but then, he doesn't have your "history" with the other man. "Look, Wey - Chris, I know what I'm getting into."

"You couldn't possibly."

"I'm his son. In a way, I've lived with the visions for a hell of a lot longer than you have. So yes, I do."

"Plus," you add, "We don't trust you."

Through J.J., you can tell that Wey lifts his hands, turns around. "Whatever. It's your funeral."

Enough from the peanut gallery. "Here? Now?"

"May as well." Brave kid.

"Okay. You might want to put the gun down." He lets it go, swings it around to his back. You nearly tell him to take it all the way off, because you have no idea where this is going to take you, but you hear Wey's footsteps and decide against it. "My DNA or not, we've got no guarantee this is going to work. It's not like you've had massive head trauma."

"Are you kidding? You know how long I played hockey." That smile again. "Plus, like I said, you saw..."

"I've been wrong before."

Deep breath. "Not really."

Just like that, time's up. "All right, J.J." You let go and the blackness swallows you again. "Face me. Step really close." Shoulders rise, fall. "I've got no idea how this is going to work, so we'll do it Vulcan Mind-Meld style." You can't tell if he's smiling. "Forehead almost touching, reach your hand behind my head, kinda hover over my neck." You brush his hair to move into position. "Now we wait. If you feel anything...tingling, anticipation...you tell me."

You feel it, but that's nothing new. Incipient visions, waxing and waning. And then he says, "I think I feel something..." and your hands are tingling too, and you close together, hand to brainstem and forehead to forehead...your free hands clasp tight and then...eyes stare unflinching into milk-white blindness and then...

Then...

God...

...I call you?" "Johnny. Just Johnny." And you're crying...

... son. He's a hockey player." "What's his name?...

...Almost there. I'm going to tell you to push soon."

In the hospital room with Walt and Sarah, time slows, stands still. You're a scarred revenant, intruding on the business of the living.

"Oh, wow. Oh my God."

You whirl, turn to face him, because here, you can see.

"That's me being born, isn't it?"

"Yeah."

His face is transfixed with wonder, and you envy that so much, because you came into this gift in fire and pain. The world's pain, even if you didn't know it then.

"I had this vision from Walt first. I think I've had it from every perspective since." You smile just a little. "Including yours. Everything's so big."

Smile in reply, and then a gasp that's almost a sob. "Mom-"

Reaches to touch her, pulls back. "We should go."

"Okay. Let's see if we can."

You can and you do, and then you realize that Wey has been trying to pull you apart for half an hour. You trust him a little more, but not much. You feel your way to the wall and slide down to a seat, daring to listen for the still, small voice. When J.J. comes to you later, it still hasn't whispered an answer.

"I had a vision," he says. "A little one, I guess. Some kids coming here to play. The place looked...like it does now. We should really go."

He reaches down to take your arm and gasps. "I...I can't see."

"Yeah. I know." Because you can see now. With his inheritance on-line, J.J. sees as you when you see as him, which is to say, not at all. "Get Wey over here. We're not related, so it won't work that way. He can lead me, and if he tries anything, you can shoot him."

"You knew this would happen. You gave up your eyes."

You shake your head. "You're my eyes. You'll let me see when it counts. Otherwise..." Breathe in, out. "...I know what the world looks like."

Presently, your reluctant guide stretches out an arm, and you take it. In the darkness, you put one foot in front of the other. You move on.

* * *

END

TMF


End file.
